the Rebuilding of a Life
by Krysnel Nicavis
Summary: A young man with black hair, green eyes, and a curiously shaped scar on his forehead wakes up one day in the middle of a field with no memory of his life up to that point. The only things he is aware of is his name, that he is seventeen, and the fact that everything is very bright…
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Rebuilding of a Life (1/?)  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter, X-Men: First Class  
**Characters:** Harry Potter, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr  
**Word Count:** 2,584  
**Rating:** T  
**Genre:** …  
**Summary:** A young man with black hair, green eyes, and a curiously shaped scar on his forehead wakes up one day in the middle of a field with no memory of his life up to that point. The only things he is aware of is his name, that he is seventeen, and the fact that everything is very bright…  
**Author's Note(1):** Based on/adopted from "restoring memories" by syrac123747 on  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing…

* * *

Bright…

That is all I can see.

I blink once, twice… and the brightness gains some definition… a little.

There are shades within the bright now… _clouds_ my brain supplies. Those are clouds I am staring straight ahead at - straight _above_ at. My mind registers the surface behind me - _under_ me. I turn my head to the side and take in the green of the grassy field I find myself laying in. Blinking once more I take in a slow breath and try to lift myself into a sitting position. It's slow going at first and takes a few attempts but I eventually manage.

Once my head stops spinning I sigh and take stock of my surroundings… Not a whole lot. The field, it seems, is more a clearing than a field. Beside me I notice a bag. A forest green duffle with a couple thin dull gold stripes on it. I stare at it for a few minutes then shrug and unzip the side pocket. Inside I find a worn brown leather wallet and a key attached to a keychain bearing the number 312.

Inside the wallet is an ID card with my name and picture on it. Huh. My name. I know what it is. And I recognize myself as well. I've just realized that aside from that I don't remember much of anything. I know my birthday - not the precise year but I know it's the thirty-first of July… and for some reason the year seems to have been worn away on the card - and I know my age - seventeen. Aside from that nothing important.

Further investigation reveals some American currency, a hotel receipt, and a Visa credit card.(1) I replaced the items in the side pocket. The main compartment held basic changes of clothing. Nothing special.

I re-zipped the bag and sighed again. Well, there was nothing for it. I wasn't about to spend the rest of the day (however long that was) and night sitting in this clearing. I got unsteadily to my feet and slung the long strap of the duffle crosswise over my torso. After a moment of searching the trees I heard a noise that didn't belong in the forest coming from somewhere behind me. I shrugged to myself and headed in that direction.

Some meters into the trees revealed a road. Most likely a highway. Looking up and down the road I decided to turn left, walking against traffic. As I walked I took notice of my clothing: dark jeans tucked into sturdy hiking boots, a dark red shirt (a long sleeve by the feel of it), and a black leather jacket that looked well used. After a few hours of walking - according to the watch strapped to my left wrist - I came across what looked to be the industrial area of a city. An hour more of walking got me passed the warehouses and nearer to the populated area of the city. I finally stopped walking when I came across a pub. Tired and thirsty I made my way inside, accidentally bumping shoulders with a man of similar height to me dressed in a gray suit. I apologized, glancing into his brilliant blue eyes for a split second before walking up to the bar to place my order. The much taller gentleman on his opposite side snapped at me to watch it before being gently chastised by the one I'd bumped as the two continued on their way.

I finished and paid for my meal and stood, glancing towards the scruffy looking man a few seats to my right who was ordering yet another beer as he took a long drag from his cigar. I headed to the restroom to wash up a bit. After splashing water on my face and neck, rinsing away the bit of sweat that had accumulated from my walk, I looked up at my reflection and frowned. Something was wrong with the image I was seeing. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something… different.

My short ink black hair was quite erratic, sticking up every which way. I tried to tame it but the effort proved futile, though in moving it I did notice the curiously shaped scar on my forehead - it looked rather like a lightning bolt. My skin was tanned and my body, while not muscular, was well defined suggesting I'd spent a lot of time outdoors recently. My rounded almond eyes were a striking shade of emerald green. My facial structure suggested there being nobility in my heritage. I blinked.

My eyes.

I could see them unobstructed. I could see _with_ them. I didn't require the aid of glasses, which I was sure I'd needed before… Just how I knew I couldn't figure out. I shrugged off the thought and dried off with a paper towel.

I caught a taxi from the pub and, on a whim, gave the name of the hotel that was on the receipt in my wallet. The hotel turned out to be one that spoke of wealth but in a modest, tasteful way. I took my duffle bag in one hand and entered lobby. I took in the space, trying not to look as out of place as I felt, and located a couple elevators. On my way over to them I spied the man who had snapped at me for bumping into his friend disappearing into the lounge on the opposite side of the lobby. I took an elevator up to the third floor and located the room labelled '312'.

"Here goes nothing," I muttered as I inserted the key and turned…

The lock clicked and the door opened.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and quickly entered the room, letting the door shut behind me. Like the outside and lobby had been, the room spoke of modest wealth. There was a tasteful painting hanging above the couch in the small living area. A half kitchen was to the right of the door, some cupboards with drink glasses, a counter, a small bar, and a fridge. At the far end of the living area was a sliding door that led out to a balcony. To the left was a door that upon further inspection revealed a small bedroom with a comfortable looking double bed, and to the left of the doorway was another door that lead to a sort of powder room before the bathroom. Another tasteful painting hung above the bed.

Daylight was beginning to dim and I was feeling tired from my long walk. I decided to turn in and get an early start on figuring out what was going on in the morning. I placed the duffle on the end of the bed to search for suitable sleepwear. Deciding on a pair of sleep pants and a sleeveless shirt, I found a small red photo album nestled protectively between two shirts.

I sat on the bed with the little book in my hands and flipped through the pages. The first few photos showed a young man who looked quite a bit like me, or like I will when I get a little older. The only differences I could see between the man and how I look now are the hazel colour of his eyes, the presence of glasses (though I'm quite certain that I had worn glasses at some point), and a lack of any obvious unique scarring. In all the photos that feature this man there is also a young woman with rich red hair and the same striking green eyes I saw staring back at me from the mirror earlier. The two look very happy together. In one photo the two are dancing in the middle of falling leaves, content smiles on their faces as they looked at the camera. There is a photo of their wedding day where they are accompanied by two other young men: the first has sandy brown hair, almost amber coloured eyes, and a few scars on his face and neck; the second, long wavy black hair, grey eyes, and a cheeky expression. In the last photo to feature the happy couple there is an infant held between them. The infant has the same black hair as it's father and much of the same facial features while it's eyes are the exact shade of it's mother's.

_'These must be my parents,'_ I think to myself.

A cursory look through the rest of the photos reveal images of various teenagers. I am featured somewhere among them in each photo, at various stages of teen-hood. _'And these must be my friends.'_

I snapped the book shut and returned it to my bag before taking a quick shower. I got ready for sleep and slid under to covers, all the while wondering what the world had in store for me.

I yawned and turned over. My sleep fogging mind dimly registering the lights being turned out as I drift off.

* * *

The next day I dressed in the same jeans from I'd worn and a long-sleeved grey shirt. I'm running through my head a few things I'd like to get done today when it happens: I'd just shrugged my jacket on again and discovered that while the room key was in my pocket my wallet was not. I spied it out of the corner of my eye and held out my hand in preparation of moving towards where it lay on the coffee table when it flew across the room and into my waiting hand as if it had been summoned.

I stared at the innocuous item now sitting in my hand, feeling stunned, startled, and even a childish bit of awed excitement. I looked around the hotel room and spotted the complementary stationary on the desk next to the sliding door. Feeling a bit foolish despite what had just happened I held out my hand, consciously focusing on the fountain pen this time. The item in question lifted off the desk a few inches then shot in my direction. My eyes widened and I dropped into a crouch as the pen sailed passed my head and embedded itself in the wall behind me. I stood and looked sheepishly at it, sure that my face was blushing a brilliant red even though I was the only one present to witness the spectacle. After chastising myself for not being more cautious I focused on the pen again. This time I was able to _gently_ coax the pen from where it had forcibly taken up residence in the wall.

I triumphantly plucked the pen from the air before inspecting the hole it had left behind. I sighed and ran a finger around it, knowing I'd likely have to pay for the damage. I dropped my hand and was about to turn when the new hole in the wall began to repair itself. I blinked and stared at my hand.

This was impossible. All of it was impossible. And yet… (I ran my fingertips over the area where the hole had been, not even finding the slightest imperfection) not so impossible.

All things considered, I felt I was handling all of this strangeness that should be impossible rather well. I looked around the room once more and, forgetting all reservations, randomly waved my arms around…

Needless to say it wasn't one of my best ideas.

I surveyed the damage to the room with a mixture of dismay and bewildered pride. Hmm… I could only hope that my new found powers could reverse the damage as easily as it had wreaked the destruction. It was quite a bit more than the simple hole in the wall after all. I sighed a deep breath before squaring my shoulders.

As I'd anticipated, fixing everything took more effort and concentration that breaking everything had. As well as more energy. When I'd woken up I'd been hungry. After putting the last thing to rights I was practically starving.

I made sure my wallet and the hotel room key were in my jacket pockets before exiting the room. I made my way to where the elevators were and pressed the down button. I watched the floor numbers above both elevators as I waited. One had already passed my floor on it's way down when I'd pressed the button. The other, however, passed the third floor where I was on it's way up and stopped on the fourth before coming back down. I frowned as it then stopped on my floor. The door opened and I ducked onto it before I decided to take off on me.

I heard a chuckle and looked over to the only two other passengers in the elevator car. It was the man I'd bumped into at the pub with his taller friend. The shorter of the two (who sported floppy dark chocolate brown hair that fell into his eyes) had been the one to chuckle while the taller (whose chestnut brown hair was neatly brushed back) gave a small shark-like grin in recognition.

"Small world, is it not?" The shorter of the two asked, his brilliant blue eyes full of humour - a contrast to the calculating expression in the almost metallic-like blue-greens of his companion. Like me, the man had an English accent.

"Er, y-yes. It seems so," I replied. "I take it you recognize me. I'd actually like to apologize for bumping into you yesterday. I wasn't watching where-"

"It's quite alright," the man assured me. An easy and friendly smile on his rather red lips. "I believe my friend here rather overreacted when he snapped at you for it." He looked up at the taller man with an exasperated and even affectionate stare.

"I think not," the taller man stated, an amused and slightly affectionate expression on his face as he returned the stare. "_I_ believe that you are entirely too agreeable with anyone and everyone and, thus, require-" While he too spoke with and English accent, it was slightly coloured by another accent that may have been Germanic or Slavic in origin.

"I require nothing," the shorter man replied with a slight pout.

"I am only watching out for you, Charles," the taller man conceded lightly.

The man who was apparently Charles smiled softly. "And I appreciate it, Erik, but I think our new friend here is going to begin wondering why the elevator has yet to reach the lobby. And is probably just now realizing that it is, in fact, stuck nearly between two floors."

In fact I hadn't even noticed that the elevator hadn't finished it's two floor decent from where I'd got on it.(2) But now that Charles mentioned it…

The elevator started moving again and Charles turned that same friendly smile from earlier onto me. "Terribly sorry about that, let us make it up to you. Why don't you join us for breakfast and we'll explain everything?"

I was now thoroughly confused. The man sounded as though the elevator malfunction had been their fault… "Alright," I replied a bit wary.

"By the way, my name is Charles Xavier." Charles Xavier held out his hand to me, which I took.

"And I'm Erik Lehnsherr." Erik Lehnsherr did not. But considering that his shark-like grin had reappeared and was now paired with an expression that suggested he just might try to eat my hand I was rather relieved. Charles chuckled again.

I said the only thing I really could: "I'm Harry Potter."

- 30 -

* * *

**Footnotes:**

(1) History of Credit dates back to 1958 - though admittedly it was probably not readily available to everyone.

(2) In this hotel the main lobby level is also the first floor, so the difference between the main floor and third floor is two floors instead of three… if that makes any sense.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** (see chapter 1)

**Chapter 02**

We were seated near to back of a little cafe not too far from the hotel. I was halfway through my second plate of sausages, bacon, and scrambled eggs and Charles had just finished summarizing the subject he'd studied in college and what evolution in genetics could mean for humanity.

"So… What? Do- uh, do you think it's possible that these... these...?"

"Mutants," Charles supplied

I nodded in thanks, "Mutants. Do you think they're, I dunno, around? Alive? Here, among us?"

"I don't think," both Charles' smile and tone were careful now. "I _know_." (1)

I quirked an eyebrow. "How can you be so certain?"

Charles glanced around the cafe before nodding to Erik. I watched as Erik took the spoon Charles set aside after stirring his tea and used it to stir his coffee. I frowned at the action. My frown soon disappeared as Erik let go of the spoon and it continued stirring itself before lifting out of the coffee cup and setting itself down on the table top. I stared at it for a few moments. Blinked. Looked up at Erik and said: "You can move things too?"

Erik grinned and Charles smiled happily. "Actually, Erik's abilities are centred on ferrous metals."

"What metals?" I asked, curious and confused.

"Metals that can hold a magnetic charge," Erik clarified.

"Oh."

"Though with practice he may eventually be able to manipulate much larger magnetic fields. You, however, I believe possess an ability called telekinesis," Charles explained. "But I think there is more to your abilities that we already know. Much more."

"Um, I can fix things that are broken," I offered.

Charles grinned. "I must admit that I am aware of that already.

"How?" I asked, eyes widened.

Charles looked a bit uncomfortable, and doing a good job of hiding it but I noticed anyway. "Well, you see, your room at the hotel is quite close to ours," he began. "I was able to track your display earlier this morning." Charles looked as though he was about to close himself off. "I realize it was invasive of me, and I am sorry if you feel your privacy has be violated in any way," his voice had dropped to a whisper. It was like this he was admitting to a slip up and that doing so pained him emotionally. "I promise, to the best of my abilities, that I will keep out of your head without express consent."

I quirked my head. "You read minds?"

"I am a telepath, yes." He seemed to be steeling himself and dropped his gaze to his tea.

I thought for a few minutes. "It's not voluntary. Is it?" Charles looked up questioningly. "That gift of yours. The way it works isn't voluntary."

Charles shook his head. "No." His gaze dropped back down to his tea. "No one has ever understood that… Well," he turned towards his companion with a warm expression. "Erik did, once I'd explained it to him properly." Erik returned the look. "It has more to do with keeping them out of _my_ head than it does me going into theirs," Charles smiled a little. "Though I admit I have learned how to do so on purpose." He looked thoughtful. "I think you're the first person to ever realize that on their own. Sometimes I think even my sister doesn't realize the full extent of it. It's easier to shut out a mind that I am familiar with but when I am among strangers – surrounded by new minds – I can't keep them out completely." (2)

"So," I said, backtracking a bit. "When you say there is more to my abilities…?"

Charles looked more at ease at the change in topic. "Well you see, the only way I can describe it is that you're different." He tilted his head to the side. "There is something in you other than your mutation, both of which I can sense. Something more. When I focus on it, it feels familiar but I can't place it. And it's similar enough to how mutation feels that it's possible I've encountered it somewhere before and assumed it _was_ a mutation." (3)

"How can you sense them?" I asked curiously and I finished my meal.

"I'm not really sure how to explain it. Everyone has a signature. I suppose it's a brainwave pattern that's similar to a fingerprint. When I become familiar with a certain set of brainwaves, I can recognize them quickly when they come within my range."

"Is that what helps to block them out?"

Charles smiled brightly. "Yes, exactly. Now, there are certain markers that are present in the signatures of everyone on earth. But others are only present in a very select few. Recently I've come to find that there is a particular marker that is quite easy for me to identify, and it concerns the gene that affects mutation, the x-gene…" Charles continued on this topic as we finished our breakfast and headed back to the hotel.

"We have been searching for others, like us, these past weeks," Charles explained as we walked. "Working with the CIA to put together a team of mutants to help fight a powerful mutant named Sebastian Shaw. He and a group of other mutants are looking to start World War III."

"War? To what end?"

"Shaw is a mutant supremacist. If he can, he'll rid the world of all humankind, leaving only us."

"That sounds elitist."

"We never said he wasn't mad," Erik put in.

"Do I want to know what all this has to do with me?" I asked.

"Join us," Erik stated. I supposed he meant it to be a request.

"Hmm…" I thought about it. "Join you and help to rid the world of a tyrant, or not and watch as said tyrant destroys the planet… Tricky," I smirked.

"Shall we all go pack and check out?" Charles asked, an easy grin on his face.

"Let's."

* * *

We were still some miles away from the CIA base in Langley. I lounged in the back seat of their vehicle watching the scenery go by. Charles was nodding off in the front passenger seat directly in front of me while Erik drove – perhaps a bit faster than he should but when I'd pointed that out he'd insisted that his control over his power would keep us safe.

I eventually became bored and pulled my bag towards me and rifled through it, finding the little red photo album and pulling it out. I flipped it open and stopped on the photo of the young couple dancing, taking time to study their features more closely.

"Are those your parents?" The question was asked softly but I still started at it.

"Shouldn't you be watching the road?" I asked, arching an eyebrow and glancing up to catch Erik's eyes in the rearview mirror. He ignored the question. Of course he did. I looked back to the photo. "I think so."

I looked up again to see his eyebrows furrowed. "You only think? Wouldn't that be something you would _know?"_

"I'm sure I do. Somewhere in my mind." I sighed. "It's just..." I looked out the window again, watching as trees and fields passed by. "I can't remember... _anything."_

"How did you lose your memory?" Charles' groggy voice asked. He was sitting up straight and rubbing his neck.

"Honestly? I don't know." I looked back down at the photo album. "I simply... woke up in a clearing yesterday." I shrugged. "I don't know how I go there or anything that happened prior. The only important things I was aware of were my name and age. Other than that, nothing."

"They must be worried about you," Charles said, indicating the photo when I looked up again.

"Hmm... Somehow, I don't think so."

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't think they're there... wherever there is," I admitted.

"How do you mean?"

"I dunno. Just a feeling I get." We were silent for a while.

"If I can, I'll try and help you to remember," Charles offered kindly. "If that helps."

I smiled softly. "Thanks," I replied. "I'd like that."

"You're welcome."

"We're almost there," Erik cut in.

I peered past them out the front window to see a large building in the distance. Twenty minutes later we were standing in front of the imposing grey stone structure surrounded by large perfectly manicured lawns. There certainly were a lot of windows... I heard Charles chuckle as I took in the facility. For the first time since I awoke in the clearing I wondered what exactly I had gotten myself into.

- 30 -

* * *

**Footnotes:**

(1) I figured because Harry reads differently to Charles that he wouldn't be as blunt with Harry as he was with the others.

(2) I really think Raven _doesn't_ understand the full extent of Charles' mutation and all that it entails, and has entailed for him in the past. He was arguably quite young when his powers manifested and it was no doubt that he had trouble controlling it for years.

(3) Charles would have encountered magical signatures while in Oxford. Oxford University is located about 60 m/90 km north-west of London. While I have no idea what exactly Charles' range is, in his time at Oxford it is very likely that he and Raven had spent at least _some_ time in London itself - where the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley are located. It is entirely possible he has passed near people or places with a magical signature and not known/understood what exactly it was or simply disregarded it and any thoughts as fantastical. Also, until recently (meaning until meeting others that he knew for sure were other mutants and using Cerebro) he was unaware of the significance of feeling the presence of magic and mutation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** same as chapter 1...

**Chapter 03**

Charles was delighted. Wholly and absolutely. Tickled even. Through the use of the Cerebro installation he had been given the opportunity to expand his own power. He kept thinking of all the minds he'd touched through his amplified ability. He and Erik were, even now, going out to find some of these wonderful individuals he'd connected with, however momentarily. They were interacting with more of their own kind and doing something worthwhile.

Admittedly, the rather crass reply from the gruff man in the pub had been unexpected and momentarily put a damper on Charles' mood. But that had lasted as long as it had taken to return to the door of the pub. Charles and Erik were exiting when a young man of similar height as Charles with ink black hair and a worn leather jacket was entering. Charles was distracted by the signature he was picking up from the man and the two bumped shoulders. They locked eyes as the young man offered a small apology and Charles had been surprised by the striking shade of emerald green he found staring back at him. Before he could say anything Erik had practically barked out a gruff "watch it" to the young man.

Charles instead turned to his companion and gently chastised him as the two exited the pub. "Now really, Erik it's quite alright. It was an accident, and I wasn't paying enough attention as well."

"He still should have been more considerate and actually stopped to make sure you were fine," Erik groused and pulled his own leather jacket more securely around himself.

Charles scoffed. "Really, Erik. I am completely fine." He looked up at the taller man and couldn't help feeling a warm sort of exasperation for the man whom he'd come to know in the past weeks. Charles had long since come to the decision that the man in front of him was the best friend he'd ever had in his life… ignoring the fact that up until that point the _only__ real friend he'd had was his sister. "Besides, it was partially my fault as well."_

"Then you need to be more careful, Charles." Erik returned the look.

"Is that concern I hear?"

"Of course it is," Erik admitted easily. "If anything happens to you _I'll_ be the one stuck at home with the children," he joked.

Charles choked a bit. "I beg your pardon, but I will _not_ be tied down barefoot in the kitchen while you're off gallivanting about the-"

Erik laughed at Charles' attempt to keep a straight face while scolding him. Charles quickly joined his friend's laughter. Erik merely said "yes dear" as they got into the car and headed back to the hotel. "Fine, so we'll hire a sitter," Erik offered with a grin as he drove. "Now what had you so distracted that you nearly let that-"

"Erik," Charles warned with a returned grin.

"Well?" Erik urged.

"That young man… there was something different about him," Charles said. "His signature. It was…"

"Do you mean mutant-different? Or different for a human?" Erik's eyebrow rose.

"Oh, I have no doubt he's not human."

"… but he's not mutant either?" Erik sounded bemused.

"I'm not sure," Charles admitted. "Perhaps if we come across him again I could scan him properly. See if I can spot it. I doubt it would be a good idea to put the two of you together in the same space again so soon. You still seem irritated at him."

"Are you reading my mind, Charles?" Erik asked lightly despite knowing the answer.

"I don't need to. It's obvious," Charles rolled his eyes at his friend. "You know, I really am alright. It was just a little tap."

"There is nothing wrong with showing a little more decency towards others," Erik argued petulantly.

"Honestly, Erik, you act as though bowled me over and then-"

"He nearly did-"

"He did _not_!"

"-and just kept on going his merry way!"

"_Really_ Erik, it was just a light shove-"

"He _shoved_ you!?"

"N- Erik, that's not the point!"

"That's it, I'm turning this car around-"

"My God, now you are really overreacting."

"I am going to give that little-"

"No. You are not. We are going back to the hotel and getting something to eat for supper," Charles said in a commanding tone.

"… fine." Erik slumped a bit in the driver's seat and sulked as the two sat in silence. Charles turned to look out the window to try hide the extremely amused smile he couldn't keep off his face. Neither spoke until the car was parked in the lot under the hotel. "But if I ever see that clumsy young man again I am giving him a piece of my mind."

Charles just grinned brightly and got out of the car.

Later, after calling to check in on how Raven and the others were settling in and making sure they were all getting along and not causing too much trouble, the two headed down to the hotel's restaurant for supper. They were in the elevator when Charles picked up the young man's signature through his reinforced shields. He tracked the young man as they made their way into the restaurant and noted with some amusement when the man recognized Erik from earlier. Thankfully, if Erik also noticed the young man he didn't comment.

Later that night as they lay next to one another they both registered a slight, nearly undetectable, energy pulse as they drifted into sleep. (1)(2)

* * *

The two men woke up early the next morning and went through their morning routine.

Erik's routine was very quick and efficient – his argument for why he always gets to shower first.

Charles' routine was much more relaxed and slightly less efficient. He liked to take his time in the morning when he was able. It was when he was stepping out of the bathroom when they felt it.

Erik frowned. "What was that?"

"I'm not sure... But it feels familiar."

Erik's frown deepened as he thought. They felt it again, more defined this time, and Erik realized what it was. "Last night..."

"You felt that too?" Charles looked surprised as he got dressed. "I thought I'd imagined that." He finished buttoning his shirt and tucked it into his slacks when a much larger pulse washed over them. "I think we may be reacquainting ourselves with the gentleman I bumped into at the pub." He was finally able to sense where the pulse was originating from.

"There was nothing gentle about that _man_," Erik growled.

Charles tossed him a look that was equal measures indulgent and exasperated. "You're not still cross with him now, are you?"

"Cross is putting it mildly." Erik crossed his arms petulantly and sniffed slightly, averting his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the amusement glittering in his companion's eyes. A drawn out wave of energy radiated from the room Charles now knew for certain that the young man from the pub was in.

"Cross or not you must admit that he could be a valuable addition to our group."

"I mustn't admit any such thing. It's plainly obvious that he lacks complete control. We won't have the time needed to reign him in."

Charles grinned like the cat that got the cream. "That's where you're wrong, my friend."

Erik noticed the look and sighed inwardly. He wasn't going to win this one, he knew it. "What is he up to anyway?"

* * *

Erik drowned out the words of Charles' speech which by now he knew by heart and just let his friend's voice wash over him like a warm blanket. He marveled at the feeling. It had been so long since he remembered feeling anything of the sort.

There was a time before when his world was filled with the feeling. The feeling of warmth... of having a place in the world where he was welcomed without question, without hesitation, without _thought_. He'd experienced it when his mother was still alive, before the camps got them. Then again with the gypsy girl before the fire and _her_... It was a dangerous thing that Charles gave him. A thing he knew deep down he'd never deserve. A thing he knew somehow, somewhere, he'd lose. But...

He turned his head slightly from his intense study of the boy across him (for the young man was so obviously just that) to study the profile of the man that had, in a matter of weeks – no, a matter of _hours_ if he were honest – become one of the most important and bright things in his small dark world. Erik knew that while he'd inevitably lose what it was that Charles had so unreservedly given, the loss would never be complete. The young telepath was too pure to allow that. Too bright. Too... _trusting_.

* * *

Harry's reaction to Erik's small display of power was incredibly amusing to Charles. It was almost precious the way the young man had looked up at the tall German with big green doe-eyes and said _"you can move things too"_. And then the shy way he'd admitted he could also repair things. It almost made Charles want to pat him on the head and give him a lolly, or something equally ridiculous.

Then came the moment when Charles revealed what he could do. He always hated that part, honestly. He made a good effort to hide any discomfort at divulging what had become his secret. Shared only with those he'd held most dear – _only with Raven_. It had become a necessity when Moira had found him in that pub in England. Then he'd met Erik and once his new friend had understood, really understood, it had become not so difficult. Charles relaxed when he felt Erik's warm hand wrap around his own covertly under the table as he waited for Harry's reaction. The warmth travelled up his arm until it wrapped around him in a protective cocoon.

And then... Harry understood. He _understood_. Charles squeezed Erik's hand for a moment. He'd been so guarded with this one. More so than the others. Why he had been he had no idea. But he should have known. With Erik next to him it wasn't so difficult at all.

* * *

It was the melancholy feeling that had awoken Charles. Emanating from the seat behind him and, to a much lesser extent, from the seat next to him. As he listened to Harry talk he hoped with all his heart that he could find a way to help the young man who had, for all intents and purposes, just become one of his charges.

Harry became almost precious again as Charles caught the stray thought about the windows on the CIA building. His spirits lifted further as the signatures of the rest of the children buzzed in his head. This was going to be interesting.

- 30 -

* * *

**Footnotes:**

(1) Yes, they are sleeping in the same bed. No, they are _**not**_ doing anything other than sleeping.

Let me explain my reasoning for their sharing a bed as there is no place in the story to do so: I imagine that Erik, given how he was imprisoned by Shaw and likely been travelling the world hunting Nazis for most of the last decade, is conceivably very cautious and remains ready for attack in the night. Before he only needed to worry about his own safety. Now, however, he needs to think about Charles' safety as well (despite the fact that Charles would insist that he didn't need to worry about him).

In the beginning of this little recruitment trip Erik insisted on getting rooms with only one bed so that one of them would have a place to sleep while the other stayed awake and kept watch in case something happened and to conserve funds – translation: Charles would have a place to sleep while he kept watch over him. Given how close the two became, Charles insisted one night early on that Erik get some rest and let him stay up. Of course Erik vetoed Charles staying up and Charles turned around and insisted Erik was being ridiculous and that if anything were to happen their combined powers and the fact that (given Erik's training and Charles' ability) they're both light sleepers should be more than enough to at least let them get away.

After that first night it simply never occured to them to get a room with two beds. It was just the two of them with no third party to point it out.

(2) Yes, the energy pulse is Harry's still somewhat latent powers turning off the light. Charles would have picked up the pulse as it contains an energy signature that his telepathy can focus on; Erik would have picked it up as a weak electro-magnetic pulse. They both dismissed it as they were nearly asleep and it was extremely weak and their own powers, which they both trust, determined it was non-threatening.

**Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long. I'd actually forgotten about it when work started to take up the majority of my life. Hope you liked this anyway! :D


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